


Angels Among Us

by laniew1



Series: Angels Among Us [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic At The Disco, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-01
Updated: 2007-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 20:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laniew1/pseuds/laniew1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan never knows how Brendon talks him into doing things like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels Among Us

**Angels Among Us**

Ryan never knows how Brendon talks him into doing things like this.

Wandering, late at night, without bodyguards, down to the venue so that they can hear the echoes of their own voices without the added screaming of the fans.

Brendon is happy, bouncing along beside him. He'd tried to take Ryan's hand twice; Ryan had let him squeeze it before dropping it.

He didn't know why, but he thought it best that he keep his hands free.

He just glared at Brendon when he tried to take it up a third time.

"Do you _want_ pictures on the net?" he hissed.

"It's two in the morning, relax," Brendon grinned at him, bussed a kiss against his cheek and ran down the aisle. Singing Mary had a Little Lamb at the top of his lungs.

Ryan grinned, he couldn't help himself. Brendon's enthusiasm was infectious. He was on the stage now, ballroom dancing with himself.

"Hurry the hell up Ross, or I'll find a mop to dance with," Brendon called.

"At least you won't step on its feet," Ryan yelled back.

Brendon mock gasped and started singing again.

Ryan shook his head, stiffened when he felt a twinge in his shoulders.

Long forgotten pain burst below his shoulder blades and he glanced to the right and the left, turned a slow circle. Eyes searching the nooks and crannies and not finding anything.

 _Someone here, someone here, run, hide_ , his mind screamed at him.

On the stage Brendon was humming now instead of singing, still dancing, oblivious.

Ryan took a step back and heard Brendon yell his name when he went flying backwards.

Back hitting the wall and he groaned, he felt wetness streaming down his cheek and lifted a hand. Long fingers stroked against his cheek and came away showing blood, in the space next to him he felt more then saw the shadows form a figure.

From the corner of his eye he could see Brendon jumping down from the stage, running towards him and he raised a hand as if to halt him.

"No."

  


******************************************************************************

  
They were all hovering. Overly solicitous and Ryan thought he might go mad before they backed off.

Spencer and Brendon had for the most part, but they'd sicced Jon on him and Pete was calling three times a day.

Two people that Ryan had a hard time ignoring or being angry with.

 _"Let us take care of you, we want to take care of you," Jon had said, arm around his shoulder, forcing his head down onto his shoulder._

Being angry with Jon was like being mad at a loveable puppy who just wanted to sit next to you and love you forever.

 _"I can fly out there, I have like six hours that are totally unscheduled," Pete had whispered into his phone._

And Pete… because it was Pete. The one person, besides Spencer, who knew him the best in the world.

It had been a week, he wasn't even _hurt_ anymore, the bandage had come off his head that morning. The doctor had said that they were good to perform that night.

Ryan was fine, though he thought he might be going just a bit crazy from not being allowed to walk to the bathroom by himself.

"He's just in here," Zack was saying when he opened the door. Two men followed him in, one light, one dark.

"Zack?" Jon was sitting up straight next to him.

"These two officers just have a few more questions for Ryan," Zack smiled. Ryan tilted his head.

"Hasn't he answered enough questions?" Spencer came to stand in front of him, emanating disapproval and anger. "He was the one that was attacked."

"We're just trying to make sure that we have all the facts…" the light one said, lazy smirk on his face and Ryan could see Spencer's back stiffen.

"It's fine, I could use some more water anyway," Ryan said calmly. "Maybe a muffin."

Zack shepherded them out, Spencer muttering to Jon and Ryan fastened his eyes back on the two men again.

They stared back at him.

"We just have…" the dark one started after a pointed glance by the light one.

"What names did you give Zack?" Ryan asked idly. He picked up the pad and pen sitting on the coffee table, curled his feet up under him. Began writing.

The dark one blinked, they exchanged another glance.

"What do you mean?" the light one asked, suspicion tingeing each word.

Ryan let a soft smile cross his lips and leaned forward to set the pad down, they both looked at it, but only the dark one started.

"I'll tell you what you want to know, if you tell me your true names."

"Christo," the light one muttered.

Ryan tilted his head, raised one eyebrow.

"Dean," the dark one murmured, picking up the pad.

"Dude…"

"My name is Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean."

Dean sputtered.

Ryan smiled.

"This is angelic script," Sam said softly, his fingers traced over the words. "How did you."

"Only an angel can write in angelic script," Ryan stated. "I supposed you can infer the truth from that."

"Why were you attacked? Why didn't you protect yourself?"

"I'm in hiding, part of being in hiding is not revealing myself when some minor level demon attacks me seeking to force me to reveal myself," Ryan rolled his eyes.

"Hiding," Dean laughed. "You're a rock star, your picture is in magazines, how is that, in any way, hiding?"

"If you don't want something found, you hide it in plain sight. Everyone sees it, no one connects it with what they're looking for."

Sam was still staring down at the pad, fingers still tracing. When he looked up his eyes were pain filled and Ryan stared at him with nothing in his eyes and no emotion on his face.

"Dean," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

Dean looked over at him; Ryan could see the confusion on his face, mouth open to say something that never got uttered as Sam punched him.

He hit his head on the coffee table when he went down, he lay still.

"This isn't the way to go about things," Ryan said quietly, he watched Dean not move and bit his lower lip.

"I don't have a choice."

"You _always_ have a _choice_ , you do _this_ you have no choices."

"It's an even exchange, you for Dean's soul."

Ryan smiled gently even as he got to his feet. "You don't understand, not yet, but there is no such thing as an even exchange, you do _this_ , you damn us both to hell."

  


******************************************************************************

  
Dean came to with a groan and found three pissed off members of a rock band and an irate bodyguard staring down at him.

"Fuck," he pressed a hand to his head and pushed himself to a sitting position. "Fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell are you doing Sammy," he muttered under his breath.

"Where's Ryan?" the singer asked. He'd done the searches on the Internet because at first glance Ryan Ross had appeared to be a really pretty girl, he'd do a lot for a pretty girl.

Ryan Ross wasn't a pretty girl though; he was a pretty boy, and not even that.

"My brother is doing something incredibly stupid… even for him."

  


******************************************************************************

  
"Name's Bobby," the older man had said, then had pulled Dean away and they were having a quiet, fierce conversation by the window, punctuated by a lot of hands moving and Dean looking frustrated.

Spencer was looking at the pad that Dean had waved at Bobby, then dropped on the couch when Bobby had dragged him off.

"What is this?" he asked and Brendon was by his side in an instant. Jon joining him a moment later, phone still pressed to his ear.

Pete was a little upset and a lot pissed off.

Spencer thought that Ryan might have liked the idea that Pete cared enough to be concerned, cared enough that he was prepared to jump on the next flight and Jon (and Patrick on the other end, Spencer had heard his raised voice more then once through Jon's phone) were still trying to talk him out of it.

Spencer thought they might have a better chance of that if hell froze over first, but Jon and Patrick liked to fight battles that they had no chance of winning.

"This looks familiar," Brendon said, that caught the attention of Dean and Bobby and they stopped arguing long enough to come over to them.

"Familiar?" Bobby asked.

"Can you translate it?" Dean asked.

Brendon looked between them with a perplexed look on his face.

"Translate it?" he repeated, shaking his head. "It's just doodling, Ryan draws stuff like this all the time," he flushed slightly.

Bobby and Dean exchanged a silent look.

"Take your shirt off," Dean said, Brendon gaped at him and Spencer and Jon frowned.

"I don't think so," Brendon sputtered. "You might be attractive and all, but you're really not my type."

"You're not really my type either," Dean shrugged, then sighed. Like it wasn't worth the effort. "I need to see your _back_."

Brendon blinked. "Oh, why didn't you just say so," he muttered, pulling his t-shirt up over his head and turning around.

"Hold on," Jon said into the phone, Spencer hadn't even realized that he still had Pete on the line. "He's having Brendon take off his shirt… I don't _know_ what he's looking for, Jesus Pete. I _will_ hang up on your ass."

"What are you thinking?" Bobby asked, curious, like the rest of them. Spencer felt slightly reassured that this man who was apparently some sort of friend of Dean's had no clue what Dean was looking for or at.

Of course it was possible that Dean didn't know what he was looking for either, because he was looking back and forth between the pad that Spencer held in his hands and Brendon's back, he touched right above Brendon's shoulders blades, Brendon shivered and he ran a finger in a straight line between them.

"I think…" Dean started. " _Mostrare_ ," he said suddenly. His pronunciation was horrible, Spencer decided, but it didn't seem to matter.

Not in the least, not for what he was trying to accomplish.

Because Brendon yelped suddenly, that was the only word for the sound that came out of his mouth and then his back lit up, the _room_ lit up, because under their shirts Spencer's back and Jon's were doing the same.

He took small comfort in the fact that at least neither one of them had yelped and embarrassed themselves in front of two men that they didn't know and couldn't be sure they could trust.

"What. The. _Fuck_?" he could hear Patrick yelling over the phone.

"They're protection symbols," Dean laughed suddenly. "He's painted them all in fucking protection symbols."

  


******************************************************************************

  
Ryan shivered, wrapped his arms around his body.

"Are you cold?" Sam asked next to him, he was already reaching for the heater controls.

"No… no, I'm fine," Ryan said. He forced himself to relax.

Someone knew, someone had said the word and the safeguards that he'd put into place to protect, well everyone… they'd been revealed.

It was probably Dean he decided, Dean would have remembered the fact that he'd been writing in an ancient script that hadn't been used as a written language since creation.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"About you?" Sam asked in return, glancing over at him. Ryan nodded. "Someone left an e-mail message."

"What did it say?"

Sam bit his lips, wouldn't look back over at him. "It just said that they would consider it an even exchange, Dean's soul for the angel in hiding on Earth. I thought it was a joke, but a couple of days later there was a picture of you in my in-box and a newspaper report about how you'd been attacked by an unknown assailant."

Ryan nodded.

"You said that there was no such thing as an even exchange, that I would damn us both… What did you mean by that?"

"I meant exactly what it sounds like I mean. You think you're saving your brother, but if you succeed in this, if you succeed in delivering me to whoever you think is going to honor the bargain for your brothers soul, if you succeed…" Ryan shivered again, the marks were once more in hiding. He was glad that he wasn't the one answering the questions that were surely arising.

"This isn't an even exchange because if you succeed there will be no reason to save your brother, you will plunge this world into darkness and we'll be the first to fall."

"You could stop me," Sam said softly, "you could make me not do this."

"No, I can't," Ryan said gently. "Only you can make the right choice. This is your path Samuel Winchester, and I might be here, but you are walking it alone."

  


******************************************************************************

  
"They're protection symbols," Dean said for the fifth time, Jon still shook his head like he didn't understand.

"He's still saying protection symbols," he said into the phone. Dean guessed from the way that the questions kept coming from the other end, that Pete and Patrick were also painted in the symbols.

That boy Ryan Ross, he sure did get around.

"We can use the symbols to track Sam and the…" Bobby didn't say angel, for that Dean was grateful, because he still wasn't sure that Sam hadn't gone off the deep end and Ryan Ross was some sort of witch or something.

"We don't need to use the symbols to track them, I know where Sammy is going," Dean said. "He thinks he's going to exchange Ryan for my soul. He's going to the crossroads."

"Ryan isn't being exchanged for anything," Spencer had his arms crossed over his chest and Dean thought that Sam's bitchface had nothing on this kids.

"Well no, I'm hoping that Sammy's not that _stupid_. He'll destroy everything in creation."

Brendon looked at him in confusion.

"They're looking to exchange my soul for an angel, if they can corrupt said angel they plunge this entire world into darkness and hell runs rampant on earth."

"Well that doesn't sound like any fun."

Dean laughed harshly. "Trust me it won't be."

  


******************************************************************************

  
Dean told them where they were going and there was a limo and a plane waiting to take them there.

Dean was humming under his breath and trying not to look out the windows. It was a private jet; probably all things considered it was a smooth ride as well.

It was still a small, tiny metal box that had no business being in the air.

The one bright side had to have been that they didn't have to pick and choose which weapons could actually make it through security leaving them sorely underarmed; although he didn't think that all the weapons in the world in addition to the cushy seats and fully stocked bar made him feel any safer being thousands of miles off the ground.

And he couldn't drink, couldn't take advantage of the bar because he knew that he was going to need all of his faculties to deal with this situation that Sam had left him stuck in.

He hated flying and he hated planes and he hated planes that came equipped with another pissed off rock star. This one tattooed to the nines and glaring at him like Dean had any control over Sam whatsoever.

The pretty boy brigade (as Dean had taken to calling them in his head, not out loud because Spencer Smith, at least, might actually be able to _kill_ with his glare and Dean didn't want to test that theory) talked in hushed tones and watched with wary eyes while Dean and Bobby went through the motions of cleaning weapons.

They wouldn't do any good if they got there and Sam had already made the bargain.

"Your brother's an idiot," Bobby muttered. Like he hadn't been muttering the same exact thing for the last hour they'd been in the air.

Dean hmmphed at him, agreed with him even. Though he could see where Sam was coming from, see where in his brothers eyes this was a fair exchange.

Except for how he was going to hand one of the purest things in the world over to one of the most evil and hope that it was going to honor its agreement.

He could only hope that they got there first, that Dean could knock Sam on his ass in retaliation for the sucker punch that had laid him on his.

He felt the plane dip and shift and started humming again, Bobby started packing up the weapons that they'd strewn out along the floor.

"Guess we're almost there then."

  


******************************************************************************

  
There was a car waiting, no driver which Dean would have questioned if Zack hadn't climbed behind the wheel and stared at him like he should have known to call shotgun.

"I don't think we're all going to fit in here," Bobby said doubtfully.

"We'll fit," Brendon stated. And they did.

Of course that left Bobby shoved up against the door and Patrick sitting in Pete's lap, Brendon across Spencer's and Jon shoved into the breath of air between them.

"You couldn't have rented a minivan or something," Spencer muttered.

Pete snarled.

"It was a choice between this and a two seater convertible; be grateful."

  


******************************************************************************

  
The crossroads was empty and dark.

No one around, not even the hint of someone having been there.

"Did we beat them?" Spencer asked. He was rubbing his hands together.

"Pretty sure, we don't seem to be in hell, so…" Dean shrugged. He had a gun in one hand and two more within easy access if it came to it.

"Are you sure we're even at the right place?" Pete asked.

"It's the only crossroads Sam knows, this is the one that he'll try to bargain at."

There was the rumbling of a car engine, beloved and familiar and he would kick Sam's ass for more then the kidnapping if he'd so much as _dented_ his baby. He gestured for everyone to get out of sight. The car was parked out of sight, everyone was there and then not, hiding in tall brush or as far away as they could get and still see and hear.

Bobby tugged on his arm and they put themselves out of sight as well.

He saw the head lights and then they went out and the car turned off.

Sam wandered into view and Dean was only kept on the ground by Bobby's hand on his arm.

There was Ryan beside him and they should stop him now, should pull Ryan away and force Sam to explain himself… except Bobby's hand was still on his arm.

"So you succeeded," there was a voice and then there was a body. Male this time, a boy of maybe thirteen, he was smiling. Even from where he was on the ground he could see Ryan shiver.

"You said that if I gave you him that you would consider Dean's soul in the clear," Sam said.

"So I did," the boy was talking to Sam, but walking circles around Ryan. Eyeing him like he was a particularly fine piece of meat and had absolutely no clue where he was going to put his first cut.

Ryan was staring at the ground, not looking at anything, hands at his side.

"How do I know that you've done it, that you've upheld your end of the bargain?" Sam persisted.

"I don't go back on my word," the boy snapped. "You've given me him, which is what I asked for and in four days, when your brother doesn't keel over dead you'll know that my word is my bond."

Sam nodded and took a step back.

"Bobby," Dean hissed. If they waited much longer they had no way of stopping this, of ending it before hell broke loose.

"We're going to have such fun, you and I," the boy chortled, he touched Ryan's face and Ryan's eyes rose to meet his.

Lightning snapped across the sky, thunder rumbled in the distance.

From where they were, from where Bobby was coming up into a crouch and over to the left he could see Ryan's friends coming to their feet, Dean could see the boy's eyes widen, could see him take a step back.

Or try to; Ryan's hand came flying up, wrapped around his wrist in a tight hold.

"Are we," Ryan's head tilted to the side.

"What is this?" the boy snarled, struggling.

"This is free will," Ryan said softly, "I'm here, of my own free will. Dean Winchester's soul is no longer yours; your word is your bond."

"You've tricked me," the boy screamed, struggling in the iron hold that Ryan had on his wrist. Sam was still backing up.

"Ryan," Brendon called, Dean glanced to the left and saw Spencer and Jon, the entire group moving forward as one.

They looked panicked and fearful, scared.

Ryan smiled and he released the boy and his arms flew out to his side, white light erupting from his chest and body and Dean had to cover his eyes it was so blinding. When it was gone, when even the dotted remnants no longer remained…

Neither did Ryan or the boy.

  


******************************************************************************

  
"This has to be the most unbelievably stupid thing that you've ever done," Dean was shaking Sam.

Bobby was just shaking his head.

"How did you convince him to give himself up?" Dean asked.

"I didn't convince him of anything," Sam shook his head, pulling away from Dean. He winced and Dean thought that the bruise that Pete Wentz had left on his cheek was probably the least of what Sam deserved for pulling something so harebrained.

"Right up until we got here my intent was to do the trade, Ryan must have..."

"He figured out a way to give you what you wanted and not destroy the earth in the process," Bobby said. "Smart kid, you should thank him if he shows back up again for not damning you and all of a creation to hell."

  


******************************************************************************

  
It was four weeks before Ryan Ross appeared again.

Four weeks of alternating phone calls from the three remaining members of Panic! At The Disco and Pete Wentz.

Four weeks of explaining that, 'no, we don't have any way of knowing if Ryan Ross was going to reappear' and 'no, we have no idea where he disappeared _to_ ' and ' _no_ , we don't have any way of getting in touch with him'.

Four weeks of Pete and Spencer threatening to force Sam to explain to all the heartbroken fans of Panic! why the band no longer existed and why Ryan was no longer around.

Sam had taken to not answering his phone, not even for Dean.

Which was why Dean was staring at Ryan from across the expanse of a diner table alone. He'd just sort of appeared there between one bite and the next.

"You couldn't have gone to your friends first? You know they're kind of worried," Dean said.

"I wanted to see you first," Ryan said. "Make sure there weren't any… side affects."

"What like me sprouting wings or deciding to take a vow of celibacy?"

"Or demons being more drawn to you then usual."

"Demons are already drawn to me, it's my animal magnetism… no really, you couldn't have gone to your friends first? They're kind of the biggest pains in the ass ever."

"I'll make my way there, you'll help me," Ryan said, he tapped a finger against Dean's plate and then dragged it across the table towards himself.

"They not feed you where you were?" Dean asked, watching Ryan finish his breakfast off in about four swallows. He must have a hollow leg somewhere Dean decided.

"The food was perfect, everything I could have hoped for."

"Then why are you eating like you haven't eaten in four weeks?"

"Is that how long I've been gone?" Ryan looked up in surprise.

"You didn't know?"

Ryan shook his head. "Time moves a little bit differently there, it felt like the blink of an eye."

"I didn't think they'd send you back, you know, now that your cover is blown."

"They really didn't have much choice."

"Throw a bitch fit did you," Dean smirked.

"I'm here aren't I… besides, I've not accomplished here what I'm meant to."

Dean sipped at his coffee, didn't ask Ryan what his mission was because he was sure that he would tell, watched Ryan shove the empty plate to the edge of the booth.

"I thought angels were supposed to be pure, non-sexual beings."

"They are?" Ryan's lips quirked.

"Yeah, they must have got that part wrong. Because you painted at least five guys that _I_ know about in protections symbols and they would have had to have been _naked_ in order for you to do that."

"Maybe they all sleep really heavily and I move very quietly."

Dean snorted.

"I'm not sleeping with them," Ryan said. At Dean's raised eyebrow he amended that with a, "Well not _all_ of them."

  


******************************************************************************

  
Brendon was the first one to him, Dean thought that it was because he hadn't stopped to take off his guitar (like Jon had) or had to come all the way around the drums (like Spencer had), or from another room altogether (like Pete and Patrick).

Brendon threw his arms around him, hugged him tight, guitar between them. There was a point where Ryan's feet weren't even touching the ground; Brendon was mumbling something against Ryan's neck that Dean couldn't hear.

He looked away when Brendon drew back, cupped Ryan's face in his hands and kissed him like he might never get another chance.

"Ryan Ross, you've got a lot of explaining to do," Pete announced, before yanking him away from Brendon and hugging him tightly himself, Spencer and Jon pulled him away from Pete and wrapped their arms around him together.

"Guys I can't breathe," Ryan stated, and he sounded really breathless but also like he didn't care in the least. They pulled back but didn't let go of him. Ryan looked over at where Patrick was standing, half a smirk on his face, arms crossed over his chest.

"Did you want to try and strangle me too?"

"No, I'm good," Patrick shook his head.

"I can't _believe_ you went to them first," Brendon said accusatorily. "Aren't we your friends and your family and…"

"I needed to make sure that Dean was still alive and that you hadn't killed Sam for trying to save his brother before you put me under lock and key and didn't let me go anywhere or do anything by myself."

"We would have let you see them," Pete said, he touched Ryan's arm, laced their fingers together and managed some contorted move that got Ryan away from where he was still between Spencer and Jon and put him between Pete and Brendon.

"You know after we had you implanted with some sort of tracking device, so that if you manage to sneak away from Zack who is going to be watching you 24/7 we can find you," Brendon added, he was grinning, bouncing on his toes. Ryan touched his back and leaned into him.

"I don't need a bodyguard," Ryan said.

"No, you need a babysitter, but we're making do," Spencer said with an exaggerated eye roll, he looked over at where Dean and Sam were just standing. Dean had been hoping that they could sneak out before anyone really started paying attention to them.

"Are you guys staying?" he asked.

Dean shook his head. "We've got stuff to do, things to hunt."

Ryan untangled himself from his friends, ignoring Brendon's hand grabbing for him, Pete's hands attempting to latch onto his belt loops, and walked over to them.

"If you need…" he started and Dean shook his head.

"Thank you," he said. "For you know, coming up with a way for Sammy to not end the world and still save me."

Ryan smiled enigmatically.

"Well, you've still got things to do, Dean Winchester; I'm just making sure that you can still do them."

Dean looked at him and Ryan smiled, winked and walked back to his friends.

  


******************************************************************************

  



End file.
